A room without books is like a body without a soul.
Cicero
The aged librarian have ceased to shave —
his beard’s another shade of grey
and when he walks the aisles as ghost or magi,
mumbling quotes of Cicero,
he’s become another book he cannot classify.
Is he obsolete like history of battles lost
or relevant as philosophy or law?
Or is he just a notebook still unpublished?
At five PM his library is empty.
He locks the doors and quench the lights,
cause in the darkness he is poetry:
eight one one,
but soon he’s gone
Today Grace Hosts OLN at dVerse. Welcome, the pub opens very soon.
—
February 23, 2017

love the nod to the Dewey Decimal System 🙂
🙂
I have memories of the old library catalog, endless rows of cards. Are you old enough to remember that?
“he’s become another book he cannot classify…”
*sigh* I wish I wrote that…
This is wonderfully eerie and chilling! Fantastic new addition to the series Bjorn 🙂
Thank you, Björn! You know how much I enjoy reading about the aged librarian. I was at the library today, leading Bounce and Rhyme with parents, carers and babies. Our librarians are not aged and I got to wishing that we had one who walked the aisles ‘as ghost or magi,
mumbling quotes of Cicero’! And I seem to remember that 811 is poetry…
Ah so interesting…the librarian becomes the book…becomes the poem…great series.
I enjoy your aged librarian series and I love how ‘in the darkness he is poetry’ :o)
in the darkness he is poetry — now that’s poetic
811 indeed. This series of your seems incredibly attune to each of our literary sensibilities. I never tire of our visits with the aged librarian. I cherish the notion that you have created a series that rivals & compliments my own.
I like the idea of the librarian becoming “another book he cannot classify”.
I envy him. Oh to live amongst that mountain of knowledge, mankind’s history. I’d want to be alone though, after the library had closed, wandering to my hearts content.
Strange, as this may sound, Bjorn, a lot of people can relate to this poem, as a metaphor, for their lives. I know, I’m one, who can.
Sigh…..”Another book he can not classify”….Beautiful. I must catch up on your fascinating series….
He is in the perfect job and in the perfect place. Beautiful creation.
Absorbed by the pages of his book. Very visual, the bearded Magi wandering his silent aisles.
I have found your aged librarian in the nursing home where my mother resides. He was once a professor of Library Arts, specializing in cataloging. He is tall and thin and bald on top. He has a lovely soft voice and has lost his name. He asked me today if I had seen him name anywhere. wonderful series this is.
You painted him with love.
Aged librarian, 8-1-1 over and out. I was enthralled by your description, and I’ll be looking for the rest of the series.
This is my favorite part: cause in the darkness he is poetry:
eight one one
Love the series Bjorn ~
a ghost or magi — he’s not still unpblished, there he is, on the page!
A dream job for us booklovers and yet there is something there about existing outside or inside a book, losing one’s identity, a powerful yearning… Just lovely, Bjorn! And I am more familiar with the 820s, of course…
What is 8,1,1, Bjorn? I do get your poem but not that reference.
It’s the dewey decimal code for poetry 🙂
Of course! Thank you!
Your librarian reminded me of Merlin.
I am haunted by this character you’ve created. As a little girl, I went every Saturday morning to the basement room of our library where our lady librarian, and I remember her as bespectacled with oxford type tie shoes with thick high heels on them and her hair plaited on her head. She was mysterious to me — so different from my mother and her friends. She was books to me! 😊
Ahh, he becomes a book and then poetry. This is beautiful.
and when he walks the aisles as ghost or magi,
he’s become another book he cannot classify.
Perhaps it might be lodged somewhere in the 811 section to be unraveled by the youngsters that came after
Hank
‘he’s become another book he cannot classify.’ – wonderful line that truly gives pause … (is that a good thing … or a bad thing?) Particularly once it is impacted by the line ‘in the darkness he is poetry’ . A cerebral and fascinating piece of writing.
Beautifully haunting.
I absolutely love this! Very poignant.
Good poem. You do well with these pieces about libraries.